


Defense against the Dark Arts

by Quecksilver_Eyes



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, remus has nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-12 15:36:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13550328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quecksilver_Eyes/pseuds/Quecksilver_Eyes
Summary: The wolf growls and suddenly the dog is a man, long matted hair hanging down his back, the dark mark prominent on his pale arm. He grins and his teeth are still canine, still predatory. “Come hunt with me”, he says and bites the wolf’s neck.or: Remus teaches and dreams and remembers.





	Defense against the Dark Arts

The first (two thousand and sixty first) night he spends in Hogwarts, he dreams of a black dog. The shelves look bare and cold and he has yet to unpack his suitcase, the Dementors’ cold still sits in his bones.

 

* * *

 

 

The dream goes something like this:

 

* * *

 

 

The dog growls and barks and bares its teeth and the wolf is attentive and calm. The morning air smells of smoke and booze and blood, the moon flickers green, then red. The dog yips and jumps on him, paws on the wolf’s chest, tongue lolling out of its snout, in between large sharp teeth.

The wolf growls and suddenly the dog is a man, long matted hair hanging down his back, the dark mark prominent on his pale arm. He grins and his teeth are still canine, still predatory. “Come hunt with me”, he says and bites the wolf’s neck.

When he raises his head again, blood drips from his teeth and the wolf has gone to sleep in Remus’ bones again.

 

* * *

 

 

He still knows this castle, knows it in his bones, knows the way the staircases move, the way the hidden corridors open. The heavy door to the library still creaks the same way it did when he last set foot in here, Sirius’ breath warm on his neck, his hands on his hips, and he sits down next to one of the windows. “Nox”, he says and his wand stops glowing. “Next year we’ll be free”, Sirius had said, lips against Remus’ pulse, hands in his hair.

“Next year, we’ll fight in the war”, Remus had said and Sirius had kissed him.

 

* * *

 

 

When he first came to Hogwarts, he started counting the nights spent in Gryffindor tower, all two thousand and sixty of them, when James cracked jokes and Sirius laughed his bark like laugh, all of them sleeping in a pile, Peter’s arms around Remus, Sirius’ legs hanging from the bed.

 

* * *

 

 

Harry looks just like James.

Remus knows that, has seen it in the dimly lit train, but now, standing before them with a smile on his face and a book under his arm, he can’t help but notice the little things. The way Harry’s robes don’t quite fit his skinny frame and his glasses, round and not quite right for his face. _James_ , he thinks. _Dear God, Prongs._

 

* * *

 

 

There is no mark on Sirius’ arm. That is the first thing Remus notices, before he even sees Ron’s hurt leg or Hermione’s fear. His wand shakes in his hand, he can feel the moon seeping into his frame. Harry stares at him, eyes brighter than ever before. There is no mark on Sirius’ arm where there should be one, his long matted hair spread out on the floor, Hermione’s stubborn cat rolled up on his chest.

Dear God, there is no mark.

 

* * *

 

 

And when he hugs Sirius, for the first time in twelve years, breathes in his scent, feels the way his bones push against his skin, the wolf in Remus is calm.


End file.
